


The Witch's Dog

by Darkwhitepebble



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Emperor Lotor, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra! Keith, Im trying here, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, KLOTOR, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith has a tail, Keith has issues, Keitor, M/M, More tags to be added, Not slowburn, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Toxic Relationship, another fic, cause i cant do that, guess who's back with a rewrite, he can shift here too, i basically just messed up every character, keith can teleport, keith is precious boi, kosmo is best boi, motherly haggar, no self control, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwhitepebble/pseuds/Darkwhitepebble
Summary: There are many mysteries surrounding the Witch's Dog.They can all agree on three things, though: he is a half-breed taken by Haggar as a child, a cosmic wolf always at his side, and he is a murderer.Keith Kogane vanished from Earth in the same manner as he had appeared. In a flash.It's been decaphoebs. Lotor sits on the throne, the paladins are content with their lives. Until they go to collect the murderer who has been terrorizing the Empire under Haggar's careful gaze. Red is taking a new paladin.There's something very off about this half-breed, though. The way he scans a room before he enters, the way he tenses when anyone is within six feet, the way he flinches when someone reaches for him or when another moves too fast. His reflexes just happen to be a bit... too fast.Keith Kogane had died on Earth. But he lived on the cosmos.But Haggar and her druids want him back. And there is no line when it comes to the task.
Relationships: Acxa & Ezor & Lotor & Narti & Zethrid (Voltron), Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Keith/Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 345





	1. i can't recognize you

**Author's Note:**

> wassup my dudes! its ya girl, back at it again with another keitor fic because i have no self control!!

The Galran Empire has many legends to tell their precious kits. 

They could speak about Sa, the creator of the universe and where all go to die. They could speak about the former King Alfor and his genius ways. They could tell the ancient tale of Voltron, the defender of the universe. 

They could speak about the legend of Daibazzal, and how the ancestral home of the Galra lived peacefully. 

One tale told commonly was a warning about the Emperor's Witch, Haggar, and her awful creations. They say she was the product of cruelty and quintessence, a witch only out for herself. Nothing mattered; nothing deterred her from getting what she wanted. 

And then, nineteen decaphoebs ago, she stole a mysterious half-breed Galran kit from a distant planet. She raised the kit as her own, teaching him the ways of science and quintessence, and training him mercilessly. 

The kit became the unholy offspring of quintessence and death itself. 

Even as a kit, it was sent out and performed missions under the tutelage of the witch and guidance of her druids. The kit was strong. Unnaturally so. It became a wonder if it was because of his other blood. Was being of a muddled descent _helping_ the kit survive?

Most in the empire turned their heads in disgust. The witch was using a _kit_ to do her disgusting work now? How much lower could she stoop? Galran kits, even half-breeds, were precious in the culture. They were rare, and cherished, no matter their blood. 

To use one so cruelly was one of the worst acts that could be performed. The witch truly had no limits. There was no line she wouldn't cross. Not even the word of Emperor Zarkon could stop her now.

The kit grew bathed in blood, taught to go for the kill in a fight. 

He became to become seen throughout the empire. The kit always appeared with a huge cosmic wolf by his side, and it soothed many of the subjects to know that there was _something_ protecting the kit. 

The feeling was short-lived.

He became a murderer. 

Now a legend of the child treated with such cruelty he had snapped. He killed whoever he was told, with a giant ferocious wolf at his side who would not hesitate to snap Galran up in its great jaws and eat you whole. 

Fear became common. 

The poor kit was given a different title. 

_The Witch's Dog._

* * *

Lotor laced his fingers together. 

His generals waited at attention by his sides, the paladins of Voltron standing in front of him looking vaguely intrigued. 

"I'm sure you wish to know why I have summoned you here." Lotor smiled, standing from his throne to walk forward. He held up his palm, and a small ball made of light appeared, before expanding outwards into a holographic gathering of stars and cosmos.

"Is it about the rumor spreading around?" Lance asked suddenly. "Because Pidge totally spread it."

"Hey!" Pidge protested, pushing him. Lance stuck his tongue out at her. 

Lotor snorted. "A different sort of rumor. I'm sure by now you've heard of the myth of the Witch's Dog?" 

Allura nodded. "We've been told the same version of it by everyone. A half-blooded kit was stolen by Haggar twenty decaphoebs ago. He became a killer with a cosmic wolf at his side. What of it?"

"We have located him." 

Allura blinked. "We didn't even know for sure he existed."

Pidge adjusted her glasses. "Acxa and I built a sensor and we were able to track his movements down to a cruiser abandoned at the Titan moon of Saturn."

"Saturn?" Lance squawked. "Earth Saturn?!" 

Pidge smirked as she nodded. "Yep. He was left alone on the cruiser. Guess she got tired of her plaything. Scanners show he's even still alive." 

Hunk clapped his hands. "I wonder if he can talk. Maybe he likes sweets. Wouldn't that be so funny? A child soldier who likes cake. Are we gonna keep him?"

Shiro laughed. "Slow down. Why don't we ask Lotor about what we're going to do, since he's the brand new emperor?" 

Lotor was amused, though. He was always interested by the antics of the paladins of Voltron. It was a misleading picture, sometimes. They always appeared so serious when they made announcements and spoke in diplomatic meetings. But in reality, they were carefree and happy. 

"I believe that we should first focus on taking him, and then we can decide where to from there. We haven't yet decided whether or not he's hostile." Lotor said. Acxa nodded behind him, and Allura looked pleased with the decision. 

"Are we all gonna go?" Lance asked. "If he's such a killer, shouldn't we bring out the big guns?"

Lotor nodded. "We'll all be departing. Kolivan has assigned another blade to accompany us since she has knowledge of the ships. Krolia, I believe her name was." 

"When are we leaving?" Pidge asked.

"Two Vargas. Go get ready."

* * *

_Keith sprawled across the couch, head propped against the arm of it with his legs pulled up. A small wolf pup rested on his stomach, and he was petting it idly. It was quiet in the room._

_"You look comfortable." A weight plopped down on the couch next to him._

_Keith rolled his eyes, flicking an ear. "Whatever, Macidus. You're just jealous of me."_

_Macidus raised an eyebrow. "Why would I be jealous of you, again Kit?"_

_Keith's tail draped off the couch, brushing the floor. "You're never gonna stop calling me Kit, are you?"_

_Macidus huffed in laughter. "I burped you when you even smaller than that pup you carry around. Never."_

_Keith ducked his head, glaring at Macidus with a pout. "He's not a pup. He can just change his size."_

_The Druid only laughed. "Sure, Kit. We'll leave it at that."_

_Keith threw the nearest object._

* * *

Lotor frowned. 

"What do you mean?" Acxa asked, blinking in confusion. 

"There's something wrong with the Lions," Allura repeated. "Blue isn't responding to me."

"Red isn't responding to me," Lance added. 

"And Black is upset about something." Shiro finished. 

"Green and Yellow are upset, too. We don't know what, though." Hunk said.

Oh, gods. These Lions were going to be the death of Lotor. Though they reminded him fondly of Sincline and her wily habits. Still, it was rather inconvenient at the moment for them. 

Krolia, the Blade who'd been sent with them, raised an eyebrow. "Try switching paladins of the Lions. See if that will work."

Allura furrowed her brow. "The Lions shouldn't be changing paladins. Lance has always had Red and I've always had Blue. Black, Yellow, and Green aren't rejecting their paladins, even if they are upset."

Krolia simply shrugged. "It's something, at least."

"Let's try it," Shiro said firmly.

Lance walked up to the Blue Lion, giving one of his signature dopey grins and waving. Allura walked up to the Red Lion, respectfully canting her head forward in a slight bow. It was a bit of an odd sight.

That was until Blue activated and knelt down with her mouth open. 

Red didn't move.

Allura frowned. "Could it be... me?" 

Shiro shook his head. "No. Blue wouldn't have just chosen a new paladin at random. Something's happened to offset the balance. For now, I suppose we're going to have to leave Red here."

That seemed to agitate the Lion. It lit up and roared, and a hot bolt of anger flashed through the bond the paladins shared. They all seemed more confused than ever. And there were normally a lot of things to be confused about.

Shiro was trying his best. "So we'll fly in the Lions and Red will follow. Let's just get into the Lions before something else happens!"

* * *

The ride was a little tense. 

Randomly, Lance came in over the coms.

"Do you guys remember Keith?"

A bit of silence.

"Keith Kogane? From the Garrison?" Pidge asked, surprise in her tone.

"Yeah. I remember him once mentioning energy in the desert. Like he could sense the Blue Lion." Lance said.

"I felt like he always at my house," Pidge said with a small huff. "He and Matt were practically inseparable."

Shiro was quiet for a minute, then he spoke up. "Sometimes I thought those two were glued at the hip. Y'know, before everything... they were together."

Pidge snorted. "They weren't exactly great secret-keepers. My only requirement was that I got the best slice of cake at the wedding. If they could do that, they could be together in holy macaroni."

"Matrimony?" 

"Macaroni."

The Red Lion was trailing behind them, quiet through the bond. It was almost unnerving. Even if the Lion was actively talking, there was normally always a steady pulse of warmth that soothed nerves. 

It was blank, now. 

Soon enough, an old Galra cruiser came into view. It was hidden behind a moon, and Lotor heard the sharp intake of breath at the sight of a blue and green planet, white swirls across it. Earth.

Personally, Lotor didn't understand the appeal of a planet named after dirt, but to each their own. Daibazzal wasn't the desired place for everyone, he knew from experience. He was sure Earth had its perks.

Even if they were... small.

The cruiser was disconcertingly dark, with no lights illuminating the ship. It was unnerving. The Lions landed on the roof, claws clicking on the metal as they dipped release their passengers. The Red Lion sat on its haunches, tail curled around its paws in an oddly cat-like manner.

Lotor's generals appeared at his side, waiting for the signal. He waited for the rest of the paladins to gather, before nodding. Acxa slipped a knife from his pocket, dropping to her knees and to trace a perfect circle. She pressed her palm into the center, and it fell through and hit the floor below them. Krolia had said she would stay with the Lions above and provide back-up if needed.

The group dropped into the hall one at a time, before proceeding down. It was too dark for Lotor's taste. He was not a fan of this one. Of all his expeditions, he could safely say this was high on his list of least-favorites. And one time he had let himself get eaten by a creature inside of a Weblum's stomach. 

So yes. He had seen it all.

The paladins, thank Sa, were silent behind him. 

"Do you like cinnamon spice iced coffee?"

Lotor almost snapped at him. The sudden noise assaulted his quickly fraying nerves. 

Lance responded, though. "Hmmm, it was okay. I remember Keith loved it. Matt once tried to switch out his drinks for something he didn't like, and Keith threw the drink at his face."

Shiro snorted. "That sounds like that kid. He was like that the entire time I knew him."

A moment of quiet.

"Do you think he's okay?" 

Keith had helped them rescue Shiro and had led them to where the Blue Lion was located. He ducked out under the guise of needing to grab something, and he had never been seen again. His bike was left behind, though. And there was blood staining the sand.

"He's a fighter. I'm sure he's fine." Shiro said, and he sounded confident. That was enough for the paladins.

By now, they had reached the control room of the ship. Pidge walked forward, bringing up the computer and typing quickly at it. "Here... we... go! There. We need a specific code to get into it. Let me grab it real quick..."

Lotor looked around the room as the sounds of quiet typing filled it. It was the standard control room, though it looked incredibly different in darkness. It was, again, almost disconcerting. 

"Got it!" Pidge announced. "Sending a route... now!"

There was a beep, and a small map came up on Lotor's helmet. Everyone else got theirs too. 

Pidge turned, marching forward. "Let's go!"

* * *

They had traveled through multiple halls and avoided many traps. 

Someone really didn't want anyone getting in.

Or getting out.

Finally, they stood in front of a huge, thick set of double doors. Pidge strolled forward confidently, reaching out and pressing her palm to the center of a door. There was a brief moment where nothing happened.

Then a bright purple keypad illuminated, different symbols brightening up. Pidge beamed and raised her small computer to type in the code. After a minute of concentration, she drew back with a self-satisfied huff.

The keypad vanished, the doors slid open. As soon as they started, another set opened from within. And then another. There were five huge sets of thick, heavy iron doors that opened before a dark, dark room in the back was illuminated. It was silent.

Lotor stepped in front of the others. "Flank me. We still don't know what's going on. Be on your toes until we know what to expect. Zethrid, Ezor, stay behind and guard these doors. Hunk, you'll stay in front of the third set of doors. The rest of you, come with me."

There were nods, and Zethrid and Ezor planted themselves on either side of the open door, hands on their blasters. They nodded at Lotor, who walked forward. At the third set of doors, Hunk stayed behind. He had his bayard ready, but not activated yet. 

Finally, the group approached the final set of doors. Lotor had his sword out, and he peeked inside of the room, flicking on the night vision in his helmet. He peered around the small, black space. 

It was empty.

No, not empty. 

_There were broken chains in the_ _corner._

His back prickled. 

"It's a trap!" He yelled, whirling around. The others immediately ran for the door, while Lotor called. "Hunk!"

When he looked up ahead, he saw the yellow paladin on the ground, unmoving. There was no blood, thank god. But then the idea of him having his neck snapped like a twig became all too real. 

"Zethrid, Ezor!" He called, straining to look ahead.

_His generals were on the ground, blood spreading out around them._

A long, breathy laugh echoed. Then the doors were slamming shut with a terrifying ferocity, leaving Lotor and the others trapped in this insipid darkness.


	2. can you keep up?

Lotor sat against the wall, eyes closed as he simply breathed. This was rather inconvenient, but getting worked up would only make it worse.

Finally, the doors to the damn room slid open. Lotor leaped up from his spot, as did the others trapped inside with him. Krolia, Ezor, and Zethrid stood in the entrance. Krolia's facial expression could curdle milk.

"Care to explain this mess?" She growled.

Lotor blinked. He hadn't expected a seasoned Blade like herself to be so worked up over this. "The dog is smarter than we took him for."

"Why would you underestimate him?" she snarled. "And why are your damn Lions so finicky?"

Allura raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Krolia grunted in anger. "Your precious Red wasn't responding to any of you, correct?"

Lance nodded from beside her.

"Then care to explain why this intruder simply _climbed_ into the Lion and took off like nothing was wrong?" Krolia snarled.

Silence coated the room. 

" _What?!"_

* * *

Keith laughed as the Lion flew smoothly through the cosmos. His tail flicked beside him.

"Well, Kos, we really hit the jackpot here! A free Lion that doubles as a ticket outta there! Who woulda thought? Our luck is finally taking a turn for the better!" 

At his side, Kosmo yawned. He looked unimpressed. 

Keith rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face as he reached over and ruffled the fur between his ears. That made Kosmo let out a rumble of appreciation, pricking up his ears and closing his eyes in delight.

"Well, I'm very pleased." Keith sighed, a small smile on his face. He ignored the way it pulled at his scars, making his ear flick. He was just glad to have gotten the damned thing off of him. He had to admit, the druids really knew what they were doing.

Kosmo yawned again as if almost to say ' _you're always pleased'_ before he exploded in a puff of sparks and a tiny pup jumped onto Keith's lap. The tiny Kosmo curled up in a ball, tucking his tiny snout underneath his tail.

Keith ran a hand through his fur idly, resting the side of his cheek in his palm as he stared at the stars around him. He had never thought he would see them again after he had been abandoned in that damned ship. It was a relief, to say the least.

He let his eyes slip closed as the ship flew towards the planet he had set it to. Eucalyptus. A small thing with good resources and breathable air. 

He trusted the Lion as he dozed off.

* * *

Keith did not expect to be woken up by _fucking lasers hitting the Lion._

But here they were.

Red lights blared across his screen as the damage alert came up. Keith jolted awake, gaze flicking around fearfully before he realized his surroundings. Kosmo lifted his head from Keith's lap, pupils thinning to slits. 

Keith reached forward, grabbing the controls as Kosmo slithered off his lap. He shot the Lion forward, turning and dipping under another bright blue laser. _Rude._

" _Surrender peacefully and we will cease our fire. Surrender the Red Lion._ "

Uh, _hell_ no. He finally got out of that damned place. There was no way he was going back. Certainly not for some paladins of giant robotic space lions and a wannabe emperor with his half-breed generals.

Well, the half-breed didn't really bother him. After all, just look at him. It was the principle of the matter.

Keith barrel-rolled around another blast, shooting straight up before rearing back at the last moment. The claws of the Red Lion slammed straight into the body of the Blue Lion, knocking it back as he used the other Lion as a springboard. 

The Blue Lion lost balance, flailing through the air. The Red Lion's head shot up, ducking under another hit before hitting the Black Lion with a blast of his own. Yellow and Green aimed their own shots, and Keith mentally smirked as they shot for him at the perfect angles.

He released one of his own, which shot straight forward and deflect the other two straight for the Blue and Black Lions. Flying forward, he slid under the belly of Yellow and turned, kicking it back with one of his paws and ducking under a blast so it hit Yellow. 

The Lions were laughable fighters at best. 

Or maybe he was just trained until he dropped as a kit.

It was a fair game for either one. 

After dodging _yet another_ blast -seriously, when were these people going to learn?- he shot straight forward, heading for Eucalyptus below them. Thank god they had made it there before the paladins found him. 

As expected, the Lions followed him, and Keith had to resist the urge to laugh. Another perk of Eucalyptus was its wild jungles and massive forests. In order words, it was the perfect place to lose these wannabe pilots. 

Poor souls.

* * *

"Anyone care to explain why this guy is _kicking our asses_?!" Pidge yelled over the intercom as they followed the Red Lion. 

"If we had an answer, we would give it out," Lance replied tersely. He was struggling in the new Lion. It was sturdier than Red, less temperamental. It was soothing and cool, and Lance had to admit to himself he liked it better than Red, but he still needed practice flying in it. It simply didn't have the same amount of agility as Red did. 

"Follow him. We can corner him on the planet." Shiro ordered.

The Red Lion had been piloted by Lance for decaphoebs. And Lance simply had a certain style of fighting. He was the sharpshooter, a sniper, but more aggressive in his fighting style. He used the Red Lion's speed and agility to dodge as he flew.

But this, this gave a sharp reminder to the other paladins just how dangerous Red was. It also reminded them that despite everything they had gone through, everything they had done together, the Red Lion was, at its core, a weapon.

This paladin simply knew how to utilize it. 

"Any theories on how he's piloting Red?" Hunk asked in the silence as they followed the wayward Lion. 

"Maybe Red's been corrupted?" Allura suggested. 

"No. Pidge and I have examined these ships top to bottom. There's no way for them to be corrupted, and even if there was we would feel it through our bond." Hunk argued. There was more silence.

"What if Red really chose him? It could explain what the Lions were so mad about earlier." Pidge finally said.

It was a reality none of them wanted to be in. They didn't want a new paladin. They had a strong bond already. One forged from countless battles fought together and time spent supporting each other. They didn't want to start from scratch. 

"We can deal with this more after we get the Red Lion down. Let's focus, team." Shiro commanded, leaving no room for arguing. 

They broke through the atmosphere of the planet, which bore a striking resemblance to Earth. Pidge felt more at ease with all of the vegetation surrounding them, and her waves of calm radiated through the paladin bond and soothed nerves. 

Lotor, who had no such connection, was sitting in the cargo of the Black Lion, tending to his generals. Thank Sa for her ever plentiful mercy for the fact the wounds were non-fatal. Ezor and Zethrid had simply been knocked out. Hunk had been easy to wake once they had found him. 

"Spread out and corner the Lion," Shiro ordered, and the Lions and their paladins complied. 

The Red Lion suddenly veered down, vanishing into a forest filled with particularly _giant_ trees. Large enough for Red to be able to maneuver through them in tight turns. Unfortunately, Red happened to be the smallest, quickest, and most agile Lion.

In other words, they were unable to follow. 

"Pidge, track from above, and send the maps."

"Got it!"

Maps appeared on screens a few seconds later. The Red Lion was almost nearing the edge of the forest. 

"Pidge, camouflage and hit its side to bring it down. Lance, be waiting from above to add in another hit, and Hunk and I will secure it down." Shiro shot out lightning fast orders, already moving his Lion forward. 

The Green Lion disappeared from sight, and the other two fanned out. Blue took up a position out of sight, while Yellow and Black continued to pursue. The Red Lion was nearly out of the forest. 

A few more seconds... and...

A tense silence settled over the paladins.

Then, "I got him! Lance, take the shot!"

Green and Blue lights shot forward, and they collided with something. Two single red shots appeared, quick enough to strike both the Blue and Green Lion. But Red had gone down, and as it was getting up, Yellow bowled straight into its side and kept two heavy paws on its side. Black appeared, holding down the head as the Lion struggled and writhed in their grasp. 

Roaring angrily, Red almost slipped out. But another root blast from Green, and one to freeze them in place from Blue, and it was unable to move. 

"Surrender the Red Lion peacefully and there will be a cease-fire," Shiro ordered. 

The Red Lion struggled for a second more before it powered off. The other Lions followed suit, and the paladins, along with Allura, Lotor, and Acxa, emerged from the Lions. They stood on the grass in front of Red, bayards activated and waiting. 

The mouth of Red opened, and no one appeared. There was silence in the clearing. 

"If you want your precious _Emperor_ to live, you'll drop your weapons." 

* * *

Shiro whirled around, eyes widening in shock.

A small shape had Lotor on the ground, one arm twisted behind his back and a sharp knife at his neck. His helmet had been yanked off, prim white hair spilled across the ground as he held perfectly still. 

The figure was wearing a red, poofy sleeved jacket with white fur lining the collar and a black stripe running down either sleeve. Black fingerless gloves covered their hands, and underneath the jacket was a long-sleeved black halter top, high collar covering their entire neck except for a sliver of pale skin. The shirt was tucked neatly into black high-waisted -were those _jeans?_ \- with a small pistol holster on the side of the left thigh. Wrapped around the waist was a belt, a sword sheath and knife sheath, along with a few pouches. 

They had tall black, red, and white boots that reminded Shiro painfully of someone. The figure was almost feminine, face rounded and eyes hidden by wide goggles, tinted dark, and soft-looking black hair half pulled up in a messy ponytail. Many locks fell to frame the figure's face, and a black face mask covered the rest of their face from sight. 

" _Drop your weapons._ " The figure repeated in a dangerously calm voice. 

Shiro nodded, letting his bayard transform back and fall from his hands to the soft grass below. The other paladins looked confused for a minute, and Lotor's general dropped her weapon without hesitation. After a second, the others followed suit. 

The figure nodded. "So this is how it's gonna work. I'm gonna take the Red Lion and leave. You'll never see me again. I plan to go planet-hopping for the rest of my natural life span. Peacefully. I will release your wannabe Emperor and you will not follow or attack me. A treaty, of sorts." 

To hell with that.

"We're not letting that happen," Shiro said flatly.

The figure sighed, almost seeming exasperated. "Okay, then I kill him right here and _then_ leave. I bet his blood would look stunning mixed into that white hair of his. _Na_?"

Acxa bared her teeth, taking a threatening step forward.

The knife against Lotor's neck pressed hard enough to draw a thin line of blood dripping to the grass. Acxa paled and stepped back, though her eyes shifted to the right slightly. A nervous tick? Shiro didn't think too much of it.

Obviously, the figure did. They stiffened, and then suddenly threw themselves forward, rolling and coming back up, already turning around. Right in their place, Zethrid stood with a blade. She was growling, ears pinned back. 

The figure answered it with a low rumble of their own. Zethrid looked surprised for a minute, before taking a small step back. Now, Shiro was a complete idiot and knew absolutely nothing when it came to Galra and their habits, but his knowledge of Earth animals told him that was a step back of sorts. 

That was not good. 

Another snarl erupted as Ezor appeared from thin air, a kick heading straight for the Galran's waist. In a surprisingly feat of flexibility, they leaped back in a handstand, balancing one hand on the ground as they raised their head to look up, before flipping back onto their feet. 

Ezor was in a battle stance, and Zethrid copied behind her. Acxa looked prepared to spill blood, and the paladins had picked up their dropped weapons. Lotor himself had risen, his sword in his hand. 

"Ain't this a fucking nightmare," the figure hissed to themselves, mostly under their breath. 

Then a strange thing happened. A weird, almost shimmer seemed to pass over their body. Or something. Whatever the hell kind of voodoo they did, a purple-skinned Galran now stood in front of them. His cat-like ears were pricked forward, and a long tail with a light purple tuft at the end swayed behind him. There were suddenly black, sharp-tipped nails on his hands and one ear swiveled to the right. 

"The hell?" Lance yelped. 

The newly-transformed Galran melted into motion faster than Shiro's gaze could track. A blur of purple, red, black, and white. 

When he could see him again, Shiro was on his knees with a knife pressed against his throat. A thin curtain of blood ran down his neck and sharp pain. But it wasn't deep enough to be fatal. 

"Let's all calm down." the figure said in a sugar-sweet tone, one ear pivoted towards where Lotor and his generals stood with each other. "I already said I'm going to leave peacefully. Just let me do that."

"Let go of Shiro," Pidge growled, tensed, and ready to fight. 

"Let me leave. It's not like I want to be here." They replied. 

"Why don't we all take a step back?" Lotor intervened, hands clasped behind his back. "We can continue this discussion of where to go and what we will be doing back at the Castle of Lions, hmm?"

The figure laughed. "You really must be an idiot. What kind of suicidal maniac walks into the base of the enemy with only one back-up? I walk into that damned castle, and I'll never leave. You won't let me."

"A truce will be held. I'm sure you'd be fast enough to get out if you wanted to. And if you couldn't, couldn't you just take the Red Lion and blast a hole through the walls?"

"Flattery doesn't work on me, _prince._ I'm not going to that deathtrap after getting this far. It'd be trading one cage for another." The figure replied. 

There was a sudden low croon in the clearing, one that didn't sound completely threatening. The figure stiffened, their breath catching as they turned their head to where the noise was coming from.

Krolia walked forward, but she didn't look concerned. She looked heartbroken, instead. She was walking for the figure holding Shiro, no fear in her step. The paladins were confused, but Lotor and his generals looked shell-shocked, gazes darting from the Blade to the former prisoner. 

Krolia stopped in front of the figure. "I've missed you."

The Blade stretched out a hand, reaching forward. She cupped the side of the figure's face in her hand, letting out a strange noise. 

"Keith?"

The figure suddenly leaped back, tearing himself away as he stumbled a few steps back. With his ears pinned back and tail lashing, he looked around the clearing. Then he whistled loudly, darting forward. He was making his way for the Red Lion again. 

Hunk stepped in front, bayard activated, and ready to shoot. 

Zethrid launched herself at this Keith, bowling into him. The two went into the ground, flipping and turning in a violent tumble. 

"Ezor!" 

The figure slithered out of the grasp, struggling before kicking the helmet off of Zethrid. After more fighting, he managed to reach up and rake razor claws down Zethrid's face. Blood spilled down her front, and she loosened her grip just enough for Keith to wiggle out of her grasp. 

He tried to run, but Ezor tossed something at him. He rolled out of the way, but whatever Ezor had thrown, it changed its trajectory and struck the figure in the neck. They growled and reached up, ripping it out of its neck. It was an empty vial. 

They managed to stay up for another few seconds before crumpling into a pile on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna make the galra more cat-like, kinda like with growling and stuff. the next chapter will be out soon!


	3. touch him and perish

The figure crumpled to the ground, passing out. 

Before anyone could do much more, there was a burst of blue sparks, and a small wolf pup stood in front of the body, growling angrily. 

"It's a puppy." Lance said, blinking. 

"Just shove it out of the way." Ezor snapped, strolling forward. 

There was another explosion of blue sparks, and a giant wolf taller than Lotor was standing there, furious glowing yellow eyes fixed on Ezor as a low growl ripped through the clearing. Its fur was bristling, and it looked ready to attack the first person that got too close.

"I'm out." Ezor announced, throwing her hands up exasperatedly and stalking off. Zethrid followed her.

Lotor cast one glance at the wolf. "Dart it too. They'll both wake up in the castle."

Ezor threw another dart without even looking. It struck the wolf in the chest, and it turned back into a small pup in a puff just as it fell to the ground. The two lay there, almost looking peaceful. 

Krolia walked up to them, crouching down and placing her hand on Keith's shoulder.

"Krolia, do you know him?" Allura asked hesitantly.

Krolia gave a slight chuckle. "I suppose you could say that. I never thought I'd see him again, and never imagined it be under these circumstances."

Shiro tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Krolia sighed, touching Keith's cheek. "He's my son. Keith Kogane."

A quiet silence settled over the clearing like a soft blanket.

"Wait _Keith?!_ "

* * *

Keith.

Keith _fucking_ Kogane was the infamous half-Galran assassin.

The same Keith who was hot-headed and beat every record set on the simulator at the Garrison.

The same Keith who had the most awkward smiles when you earned them, and who was remarkably close with Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro.

The _same Keith_ who used to trip over himself to try and give compliments and say nice things to people.

Holy fucking crap. Why the hell did this keep happening?

* * *

Pidge typed at her computer, sitting on the floor of the control room despite the fact she had a chair barely ten feet away from her. Her tongue was sticking out of her mouth in concentration, and her brow was furrowed. 

"Any luck?" Shiro asked.

"Almost." She replied tersely. 

They were sitting in the control room of the Castle of Lions, waiting patiently. 

Lotor was standing with Allura, Shiro, and Krolia at the front of the room, discussing something that sounded important. Ezor was lounging in Zethrid's lap, sharpening her knife while Zethrid simply leaned forward and rested her chin on Ezor's shoulder. Acxa sat beside Pidge, typing at her own computer just as fervently. 

Lance and Hunk were playing cards near the center of the room. Everyone had their weapons close to them, though not obviously so. They weren't physically activating bayards and swords but kept them within a safe arm's reach. 

In the center of the room, the newest half-Galran lay unconscious, curled around the small wolf not-pup. The wolf had woken awhile ago, but was content to keep watch over the occupants of the room while staying by Keith's side. 

The atmosphere of the room wasn't per see _tense,_ but it also wasn't far from it. Lotor and his generals were comfortable around the paladins, after fighting battles together and joining forces to defeat Zarkon. But the new occupants, along with Krolia, made interaction more stilted than normal. 

There was a soft groan, and everyone's gazes snapped to the half-Galran in the center of the room. 

Said creature was pushing himself up, pressing a palm to the side of his head and shaking it as if to clear something away. His tail flicked behind him, and his ears flicked. The wolf nuzzled the space between his neck and shoulder with a quiet whine, and Keith lowered his hand to run it over the fur on the wolf's back, ruffling the spot between his ears affectionately. 

They had decided to leave the goggles on his face, letting him preserve his anonymity for a little while longer. He looked around, though where exactly his gaze was was untraceable. It unnerved nearly everyone. 

"Hey, Keith." Hunk greeted quietly. 

Keith slowly gathered his pup in his arms, getting to his feet. "Terms."

Shiro furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I wasn't born yesterday." Keith growled. "What are your terms?"

"Terms for what?" Allura questioned in confusion. 

"Terms for my capture. Am I to be kept in the dungeons like a dog, or are you to parade me around? Or are we bypassing all of that in favor of immediate execution? I need terms." Keith replied, sounding tired.

" _Execution_?" Shiro asked incredulously. 

"If the option is open this time, I would be willing to duel for my freedom." 

"Duel?" Krolia echoed. "That tradition has been banned, Keith."

"Since when does that matter?" He retorted. 

"I got a hold of something!" Pidge crowed into the silence, throwing her hands up victoriously. "Mirroring to the big screen."

The large computer screen dashboard lit up, flicking to life. Pidge typed something in, and then a crackle of static was rolling. 

"Hang on, sorting through the corruption... it's one of the only thing salvageable..." Pidge muttered, before a bright green glow surrounded the screen and the video started to roll. 

It was of a dim room, no light within it. There was the sound of something in the corner, then doors were opening and the light was cast inside. Two figures the room, dressed in the robes of Druids. 

_"Keith, High Priestess Haggar wishes to see you."_ One of the voices crackled, and they moved towards the shape huddled in the corner. Chains were visible from the light cast in from the doors, and they were black, stained with some sort of substance. There were stains on the walls of the room, and deep gashes and claw-marks in the floor and walls, surrounding the area where the creature seemed to be huddled. 

One of the Druids knelt down, reaching out to unhook the chains from the creature's hands and feet. They moved them back, then stood and took a few steps back. _"Come on, Keith."_

Then the creature was moving, rising to its feet and placing a clawed hand on the wall for balance. A light purple arm came into view, and long scars and gashes crisscrossed the fair skin. Some were fresh, and a couple still-bleeding. 

The creature walked into view of the cameras, and there was a gasp in the control room. 

It was Keith. His eyes were half-lidded, but a quiet yellow glow illuminated their edges, pupils outlined in white. Around his mouth was the cruelest contraption any of the paladins had seen. 

It was a half-circle, wrapping around the front of his face from cheek to cheek, two thin bands of metal. They were attached to his face by slim black metal picks, reaching forward and hammered into his cheek and jaw. There were six on either side, sinking deep into the skin. At either end of the contraption, between the two metal bands, was another pick sliding into skin. Attached was another metal band, wrapping around and reaching into the mouth from either side. Blood dripped from a few of the places were metal pierced skin. 

It was like a primitive, painful version of acupuncture. Meant to harm. It was disturbing, among other things. Heavy black manacles were wrapped around Keith's wrists and ankles, and a similar device as to the one around his face wrapped around his neck like some demented collar. It was one thick band of metal encircling his throat, fitting snugly against the skin. Small metal pins, like the ones around his face, stuck out of the collar, small metal circles at the ends of them. 

They walked out of the frame.

Pidge fast-forwarded, to another time. 

There was the sound of scuffle outside, and yelling and snarling. 

After a minute, something was thrown inside, and another trailed after them. 

Keith had been tossed into the room like a ragdoll, and Druid stepped inside. Even in a camera with a mask covering their face, it was clear they were positively furious about something. 

_"You idiot!"_

Keith leaped at them, and they didn't seem to be expecting that. There was the sound of something shattering before Keith was thrown to the floor. The Druid's mask was in pieces in front of him, though his face was hidden from view. They raised a hand, and purple electricity crackled across their hand. 

It leaped for Keith as the video cut out into static.

There was silence in the control room. 

Slowly, everyone turned their gaze to the standing person in the center of the room. He had the wolf in his arms and was standing rigidly. Even without his expression visible, tension radiated off of him in waves. 

"Okay. I'm done here." He announced, turning and walking for the exit to the room. "I and 赤いライオン are taking our leave." _The Red Lion._

Ezor moved faster than anyone could blink, a vial in her hand, tossing it with deadly precision. It cut through the air, whistling as it went straight for Keith's neck. The needle gleamed in the light.

Another second passed.

And then Keith was turned around, vial caught between two fingers. He reached up, pushing his goggles onto his forehead as one ear swiveled towards the other side of the room, the right-facing forward. He had glowing yellow sclera, and pupils were outlined in white. And he looked positively unamused. One eyebrow was raised, a small scar running through it. 

"Is this some kind of Galran joke I'm too human to understand?" 

"Let's stay and discuss our terms, as you so adeptly put it earlier." Lotor suddenly said. "We mean you no harm, but we cannot have you running amok in the Empire causing trouble."

"Well, I can settle it now. I am going to live on my own with Kosmo, interacting with no living beings besides those of the planet. I make no plans to be 'running amok in the Empire causing trouble', since you're so worried." Keith responded flatly. He twirled the vial in his fingers, tossing it in the air before catching it and reaching down to pocket it. 

"We can provide you support here, the Voltron Coalition, if you were to join." Allura offered.

Keith froze, then started chuckling, lowering his head as small tremors of laughter shook his shoulder. Everyone was confused, but he shook his head as he dispersed his mirth. "I understand. You want me to publicly pledge allegiance to the Voltron Coalition to calm the storm raging across the galaxy. If they see me, the Witch's Dog, pledging to save the universe from all you deem evil, uprisings will be quieted. Smart move, princess."

Allura looked uncomfortable but didn't deny it.

Keith's gaze suddenly went flinty, and the temperature of the room dropped. "I'll make it clear right now. I will _never_ bow down to anyone again. You can carve my oath of allegiance into my gravestone. I'm sick of being at other's mercy. Have a fun time fighting the witch."

The half-Galran turned, walking for the exit confidently. 

Lotor sighed. He hated making these kinds of calls. "Take him down."

All occupants of the room, including the paladins, moved lightning fast. They lunged for Keith with their weapons activated. Keith turned, and his frame suddenly exploded in a flash of purple sparks. 

"Now you show your true colors, _na_?" He chuckled. 

Everyone whirled around, to find Keith standing across the room, leaning against the console. He had his arms crossed, and Kosmo stood next to him, shoulder even with his waist. Keith shook his head in disappointment, straightening. 

He reappeared, landing a sharp roundhouse kick to Ezor's head. 

She went down _hard_ , smacking into the floor with enough force to knock her out cold. Zethrid dropped to her side immediately, and Keith grabbed the vial he had stolen earlier and plunged it into her neck none-too-gently. Zethrid collapsed. 

Acxa growled, lunging. Keith flattened his ears, growling softer but with as much anger. He brandished a black knife with a glowing stripe down the middle of nowhere, blocking Acxa's advance. There was the clang of metal meeting metal as he blocked a blow from Pidge's bayard. 

Ducking under a swipe from Acxa, Keith swept out a foot and knocked three paladins to the floor. Acxa managed to jump out of the way, but in the weirdest show of flexibility any of them had seen, Keith twisted himself backward, to plant one palm flat to the floor and flip himself back to land on his feet. As he came up, curving his spine in a way that shouldn't have been possible, he reached into his pocket and three black shapes went flying. 

Three sharp throwing stars went straight for Shiro, Allura, and Lotor's necks. Shiro ducked, Lotor jumped back, but Allura, foolish princess, panicked and raised an armored arm to block it.

Instead of bouncing off, like it _should_ have done, the throwing star sliced through her armor like it was a paper mache joke and sank into her arm. Allura cried out, blood spilling to the ground. A black and purple pulse swept through the throwing star, the lines down the sharp edges lighting up purple.

Allura screamed, collapsing to the ground and clutching her arm to her chest. 

Keith smirked to himself, raising his hand and curling his index, middle, and ring finger. The two throwing stars that had missed and embedded themselves into the console and floor glowed a brief purple, flying back from their spots and into Keith's waiting hand. The one in Allura's arm glowed as well, ripping through her skin to fly back into Keith's grasp. 

The half-galran stood, tucking the three stars back into his pocket. It wasn't missed how there was no blood on the one that hit Allura, and it was still glowing at the edges.

"Allura!" Lance cried, running over to her.

"How touching." Keith said in a mocking tone, before turning and waving a hand. "take that as a little parting gift, loves."

He whistled, and his space wolf, Kosmo, appeared at his side in a flash of sparks. No one bothered to stop them as they ran out of the room, their footsteps echoing down the hallway. 


	4. the cause of death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whats up with that poison guys?

Allura hadn't gotten any better after five quintants in the healing pod. 

The Red Lion, oddly enough, hadn't left the hangar. No ships had been taken, actually. But Keith and his wolf had departed the Castle. No one had been able to figure out how it happened. 

The ship had been on a course for Olkarion, but without Allura's wormhole capabilities, it was a slow journey forward. Thankfully, they should arrive in the next two quintants or so. 

The paladins and Lotor's generals had been hanging around the healing pods lately, just doing their tasks around the space. 

It paid off, because there was a hiss as it opened and Allura went tumbling through. Lotor, who was the closest, jumped forward to catch the princess in his arms. Allura groaned, opening her eyes carefully. 

"Allura!" Lance yelped, and the rest of them rushed forward. Coran carefully took the princess from Lotor's arms, guiding her over to a chair. Allura blinked slowly, her normally bright eyes dimmed. 

Everyone became more worried at the sight of a purple tint to her gaze. 

"I'll take her to get changed. All of you can wait." Pidge announced, walking over to Allura and helping her to her feet. The others bit their lips as Pidge led her out of the room, heading for her own. 

"What did Keith do to her?"

* * *

Keith hummed to himself, feet up and resting against the bark of the great oak tree.

Kosmo lounged next to him, fast asleep. They were on the planet Eucalyptus, finally. The Goldilocks planet was peacefully, and Keith already had a shelter with food set up. Supplies were there as well, and if this base were to fall, he had multiple others on different planets in different galaxies. 

Before Keith had run to the planet, he climbed aboard the Red Lion and grabbed his things. 

He wasn't stupid. Keith knew the paladins would be able to track the Red Lion, and that it would eventually just tie them down. So he said 'sayonara' and grabbed Kosmo to leave that place. 

They had arrived on Eucalyptus, ate dinner, and gone to sleep. Now they were relaxing outside of the large cave they were using for shelter. Kosmo was spread out, front paws on Keith's stomach and snout between them, eyes closed and soaking in the rays of the gentle sun. It was quiet. Pleasant.

Keith would love to live like this for the rest of his natural life. 

Which, the Druids had assured him, would never end. Not after the horrible tests and surgeries and treatments they had given him, at least. As long as he kept on his life source, quintessence, he would live forever.

The half-galran wrinkled his nose at the mere thought of it.

Kosmo let out a long rumble, completely relaxed. He was the size of a large wolf, so he didn't crush Keith as he lounged about. His beautiful fur was soft and shone in the sunlight, and Keith idly reached out to run his hand along it. 

Keith had saved the cosmic wolf from the Quantum Abyss, and now the wolf saved him daily. He saved Keith with his warmth, with his unsolicited love, with his quiet actions of affection. 

The two of them loved each other, sure enough.

And that was enough.

* * *

Allura was in her usual dress and still looked tired, but significantly more awake. Not like she was going to collapse at any moment. 

"Allura, how do you feel?" Was the first question.

The princess sighed, wincing as she raised the arm that had gotten struck. "Positively awful. And we have some worrying things."

She pulled up her sleeve.

The wound from where the throwing star had struck her had healed. There was nothing more than a pink mark. But awful, black and purple marks stretched out from the center of the wound, across her arm. They pulsed every few seconds, and the veins underneath the skin were black and purple. 

As they watched, all of it lit up bright purple and the lines stretched out a little more with a crackling sound that had everyone wincing. Allura cried out, leaning down and clutching her arm to her chest as tears gathered in her eyes. They were black with a purple tint. 

"I assume we're heading to Olkarion?" She asked after a minute, sucking in harsh breaths. 

This was more than bad. Allura had one of the highest pain tolerances, and if it had _her_ crying out, then a lesser human would be screaming bloody murder. The paladins exchanged nervous glances.

Lotor crossed his arms, a frown on his mouth. "I apologize for all of this. I feel like I've seen this, but I cannot for the love of Sa remember the name of it."

Allura gave a weak smile. "None of this is your fault, Lotor. You couldn't have predicted that he would react like this, nor that I would have gotten hurt. I don't blame you for it a bit." 

Lotor's frown didn't change. "Well, we'll be arriving in a quintant or two. Do you think you can make it that long?"

Allura nodded. "It should be fine until Ryner can look at it."

"I'll go send her a message and let her know we're coming. Pidge, come with me." Acxa said. Pidge nodded and the two left the room. 

Allura stood. "I believe I'll get something to eat, now."

That was all she got before her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the ground.

* * *

Keith wasn't a sadist.

_But he hoped the universe would burn to cinders._

* * *

Haggar wasn't particularly mad, today. She was more amused than anything else, really. 

"Our little pup poisoned the princess?" 

Macidus nodded behind her. "He sliced through her paladin armor with one of his throwing stars. The infection is already spreading throughout the armor, and the princess isn't doing well. He's hiding out on a distant planet."

"Can you pinpoint his position?"

"He's accounted for that already, High Priestess. There's no way for us to track him since he took nothing there. And the Nihility no longer holds his traces."

Haggar was madder than before. 

"Why wouldn't the Nihility hold a trace?"

"Because, High Priestess Haggar, the Nihility recognizes his bloodline."

This put a severe dent in her plans. All of them. She hadn't counted on the Nihility recognizing him. The work she had her Druids do was to ensure it didn't. They tainted him as much as possible. 

But it couldn't be prevented. 

The Static King was to return to his throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the entire chapter autocorrect kept changing half-galran  
> so instead of 'the half-galran wrinkled his nose at the mere thought of it'  
> it was 'the half-gallon wrinkled his nose at the mere thought of it'  
> half-gallon of what though???
> 
> give me your theories on this chapter!   
> what does the static king mean? what is that poison?  
> tell me what you think!


	5. why can't he just be found?

Ryner frowned as she walked onto the Castle, making her way to the medical wing where the princess was held. 

Held, because a quintant previously, the poison had caused her to try and attack Lotor and his generals. She spat something about galran, then went for the paladins while screaming about imposters.

Her sclera had turned dark purple, and her pupils lost their sparkle. They were plain, flat grey. The mass of taint on her arm had only increased, taking over the top half of her arm and crawling up her neck. 

She had grown stronger, and with her increasingly violent tendencies, she had to be cuffed and restrained onto a bed. It was painful seeing her that way for all parties. The normally calm, collected princess, who greeted everyone with a smile, reduced to a foaming monster. 

A deep hate for Keith had festered inside of everyone present. Even Krolia had become angry and stiff. She didn't hate Keith, but her emotions had turned to thorned stems and tangled themselves up. 

Her son, her beautiful beloved son, had poisoned the best hope the universe had of survival.

And he had done it with the intention of death.

She didn't know how to feel about this new information.

Ryner had a dark look on her face and a sinking feeling in her stomach. She dearly hoped she wasn't right about her hunch, but for some reason, she couldn't believe she was wrong. She hoped her examination of the princess would prove wrong.

Allura's paladin armor was also in the medical wing, held in a cryostasis tube.

It had black and purple lines stretching across it like corrupted roots, wrapping around the arm and traveling across the stomach to the other arm, down to the legs, up to the helmet. There were cracks across the visor.

Lance's lip was split and bleeding, partly because of a nasty punch Allura threw, and because he refused to stop chewing on it. Hunk had been stress-baking sweets in the kitchen, and Pidge and Acxa had been spending most of their time together perusing their knowledge of the galaxy. 

Ryner knew the crew was stretched to its limits, almost close to breaking. 

Ezor, who had been frayed from Keith's entire existence, had been unable to handle the verbal torment Allura gave about being galra and half-galra and ran off. Zethrid had followed her, and neither had been seen since the whole ordeal started. 

Lotor spent his time with Shiro and Lance as the primary watchers of Allura, Coran working around the ship in an attempt to keep himself busy and his mind off what was happening. The crew was coping in different ways, and none of them were particularly healthy.

A day later, and they might have really snapped. 

"Let's see what's going on here," Ryner said quietly, a small smile on her face. 

To his credit, Shiro tried to give her one back, but it ended up being more of a grimace. "Allura was given sedatives an hour ago. They were enough for five hours, but I'd still recommend being quick."

Ryner nodded. This poison made her unpredictable. Best to stray on the side of caution. 

The pair walked into the room, where everyone else had been gathered. Ezor and Zethrid had reappeared from wherever they went, Acxa was standing with Pidge off to the side, and Lance and Hunk were both chewing their nails nervously. 

Ryner steeled herself and walked over to where the princess was laying on a sterile white examination table. Even in sleep, she looked in pain and tormented. She was sweating, and when Ryner opened one of her eyes, she had purple sclera.

After one glance at the wound on her arm, poor Allura's fate had been sealed. There was barely any hope left for her now.

Ryner turned around to look at the nervous group gathered behind her. The paladins looked painfully hopeful, but Lotor and his generals all had a grim set to their faces. They were prepared for the worst.

Poor, poor souls. Who knows what had to happen for them face the world in such a way.

"Allura has been infected with a poison." Ryner starts, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She hated giving horrible news. "It's an ancient Galran poison, only used by assassins. And with the universe in the state it is now, it's been long since forgotten."

"Is there a cure?" Pidge asked quickly. 

Ryner blinked, then turned to look at the princess again. "That's why it's favored by assassins. There is only one cure. No other way around it."

"What is it?" Lance blurted.

"The blood of the Galran assassin who poisoned her."

Silence. The room was turning over that piece of information, comprehending it. 

"W-what?" Hunk croaked.

"Each poison is unique, because it is made with the blood of the specific assassin that uses it. It's a magical poison, one that will only take effect if the one who gave their blood into the poison uses it on another. That is why you'll never see it in markets." Ryner said, reaching out to touch the arm of the princess. "Without the blood of the assassin who struck her, Allura will suffer and die."

"What is this poison, exactly?" Acxa asked, her voice far too steady.

"It's a slow working toxin that spreads into the bloodstream and can take an indeterminable amount of time to work. It focuses on killing its victim in the slowest, most painful way possible. That includes ruining them to everyone around them. Something that can never compare to any physical pain is the mental of watching your loved one going slowly insane." 

Ryner curses whoever would poison such a wonderful Altean. She hopes they meet their end in a way just as painful, or even more-so. The kind of person required to use such a poison is one that is sick and twisted and awful. 

"All we need is their blood to construct the antidote?" Lotor asked after a minute. 

Ryner nodded. "Yes. Do you know who poisoned her?"

They nodded.

Ryner sighed, casting another glance back to Allura. 

"I hope against hope that you can save our princess."

* * *

Keith is quietly singing as he walks on an upward slope. Kosmo trots at his side, tail swinging to the rhythm of the song Keith is singing.

" _夜に閉じこめられた子は 無表情に息を止めた,_ " Keith sang, reaching out to ruffle the fur between Kosmo's ears.

" _だってどうしようもないことばかりじゃない_

 _変えられない世界で溺れている_ ," 

His ear flicked back at the sound of movement in the trees, his tail swaying gently. Kosmo heard it too, but the two of them are smart. They know how to draw out their prey, and they know how to fight.

So they carry on like nothing is wrong. 

" _Open your eyes 沈む影_

 _どんな今でも これが現実_ ," They were making their way further up the mountain forest, heading for where they had set up camp. 

"自由とは何?

あなたがくれた痛みが

愛かもしれないと ひとりで期待してた

僕を淘汰する

シャーデンフロイデは要らん

わざとらしいドラマティックには飽きた

Discord に耽美して

不条理 '仕方ない'なんて

いつまで言えるのか どれだけ諦めれば気が済むんだろう

笑える…"

They had reached their home by now, but Keith and Kosmo could no longer pick up the sounds. Whatever was following them had stopped by now. They were safe for the time being, thank god.

Sighing, Keith walked into the cave they had been using and sat against the wall, pulling out his knife with a twirl and grabbing a rock to start sharpening it. He was trying to remember the kind of wildlife that inhabited this place, but he couldn't remember if any of them sounded particularly like that.

Kosmo laid down with his side resting against Keith's leg, watching the entrance with a careful yellow gaze.

* * *

Lotor and the others had managed to track Keith down.

It was one of the hardest tasks of their lives, and they knew that after this happened, Keith would never let it happen again. They had only gotten to by sheer luck. Pidge had scanned the planet Keith had originally been heading to, Eucalyptus, and kept it in the systems.

After checking the planet, they found Keith and his wolf walking back to where they were sheltered. He had been singing some odd song in a language Lotor didn't recognize, but still had that black mask on, oddly enough. 

He had also kept on the gloves, and they had realized the previous mistake. The gloves weren't fingerless, but rather had light purple fingers and a place where claws would most likely unsheath. They were designed that way to throw off opponents, maybe. He had pushed his goggles onto his forehead, still with those two partitions of silky black hair falling on either side of his face.

He looked vaguely happy walking back with Kosmo and hadn't seemed to notice them approach him. They decided not to attack at that moment, because they needed to regroup and get a plan. 

They needed to get his blood. Forcefully.

Lotor had a feeling in his gut about the forcefully, but he couldn't remember for the life of him what was wrong with that statement. And for now, it was the best chance they had at healing Allura. 

So they all geared up and dropped into the forest, silently making their way over to where Keith had set up in a small cave. They finished approaching and surrounding, and were about to jump in when there was a curious sight. 

They half expected Keith to be sitting out, gutting an animal, or doing some equally depraved act of violence. That was just the information Keith had given to them. He was a cruel, masochistic murderer.

So how did any of that explain what was currently in front of them?

Instead of torturing a small animal to death, Keith was... sleeping? As a human?

The wolf, Kosmo, was huge again, and laying against the wall just outside of the cave, curled around something. With a closer look, one would realize that _something_ was Keith. The tiny half-galran was laying with his back against the wolf's side, half under the wolf. The dark blue fur and light blue mane were covering him in what looked like the softest blanket in existence, and a huge paw was laid over his shoulder. Keith's head rested on the ground, pillowed under on arm, and the snout of the great wolf rested on the ground next to it. His fluffy light blue tail was wrapped around them, covering Keith's front. 

It was such a soft sight.

The half-galran assassin who had killed thousands, curled up sleeping with his giant pet space wolf. 

The black facemask he wore was missing, but his face wasn't visible from the angle. Then Keith shut his eyes and shifted in his sleep to get even closer to the wolf, and it became clear.

On top of and on the bottom of his jaw were light pink dots, and then awful light pink jagged lines dragging down from. As if that metal contraption had been mercilessly ripped from his mouth. There were silvery lines running from either side of his mouth, twisting up to create a horrid smile of sorts. Starting from right under his ear was another line, traveling down in a jagged strike and disappearing beneath the high collar of his shirt. 

But they realized, with frowns, that they had odd, jagged lines along their sides.

That meant-

It meant he had torn them off of his face forcefully. They were perfectly identical on either side; symmetrical abuse. 

A shudder ripped through everyone, and one of them tried to backpedal. Shiro. But he stepped on a leaf, and it crackled ever so slightly. 

That slightly was enough.

Kosmo's eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head as glowing, thinned yellow pupils darted around, searching for the threat. And the wolf found it, because a low growl rippled through his body. 

Keith stirred, squeezing his eyes shut tight and starting to lift himself up.

"Now!" Lotor yelled.

The paladins and his generals leaped out, running straight for the pair. 

Keith jolted up, pupils contracting in fear as the first thing he saw was many, many people leaping straight for his head. Before anyone could reach him, he disappeared in a flash of blue sparks, along with Kosmo.

* * *

Keith landed on the ground beside Kosmo, and he couldn't breathe.

_He couldn't breathe._

Keith keeled over, one hand pressed to his throat as the other wrapped around himself. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, where had the air gone? He couldn't- he hadn't been thrown out of the airlock again, had he? 

He had been thrown out of the airlock again.

What did he do wrong this time?

Tears dripped down his face, because he _couldn't breathe and the panic was rising up over him like an all-consuming wave and there was nothing he could do to stop it and please why couldn't he just **breathe**_ **-**

Kosmo shoved him onto the ground. 

That was enough to break his spell. Keith sucked in a heavy breath, up on all fours, coughing as he tried to remember how to function again. Kosmo whined beside him, nosing at his neck with his huge snout. His yellow gaze held only worry. 

It was too much. Too much. He couldn't-

Keith turned and hugged Kosmo tightly, burying his face into the soft fur around his neck as silent sobs shook his shoulders. He didn't want to ever go back. He hated it. He hated all of this so much. He hated that he couldn't breathe, he hated that he couldn't just be with Kosmo alone forever, he hated that any of this had ever happened in the first place. 

If he had never been born, life would have been so much easier. 

Keith knew his tears were soaking poor Kosmo's fur, but he couldn't stop clinging onto him. He wanted to let go, but there was something inside of him that simply wouldn't let him. He wanted it all to stop. 

After a few minutes of crying, Keith began to calm as his shoulders stopped shaking and he wasn't holding Kosmo's neck in a death grip. The wolf simply inclined his head as Keith slowly pulled back, licking the tears trails along the side of his face. 

Keith smiled at him, reaching up to ruffle the fur between his ears. Kosmo would always be there for him, he knew that much. 

And he would always be there for Kosmo.

_There wasn't anyway else he would live._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys guys guys whoever can guess the song in the chapter first without googling it, i will personally write you a small gift with a prompt of your choice, and my only limits are that i don't write smut, or shiro and keith, I'm sorry but i physically cannot do that, and i don't write incest/pedophilia. talk with me about fandoms, cause it doesn't have to be limited to voltron!! good luck! i love you guys!


	6. its all so clear sometimes

The earliest thing he could remember in clarity was Kosmo. 

Haggar and her druids had gotten angry with him, calling him useless and a waste. It was because he wasn't progressing in his training and learning as fast as he ought to. He was slow. Weak. 

But what could he do about that?

He remembered being curled up in a corner, ears drooping as he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. There were bleeding lacerations across his arms, and he had a bruised cheek and a blackened eye. He wasn't doing things like he should. 

So when he was about five decaphoebs, when they finally decided he was truly useless, they grabbed him and put him in armor far too nice for someone as worthless as he was. They put on his helmet and worm holed the ship to a space without light. 

Then Macidus had guided him out with smiles and promises of gifts, before saying he would be right back, and not to move.

He never returned. 

Keith was left floating in the Quantum Abyss, alone. 

* * *

It took him about a phoeb to reach the space whale he rested on. There was oxygen to breathe, and the space whale was a host to its own environment. He had struck gold when he found it floating by. 

He was so, so grateful his suit recycled air so that he didn't run out. 

He had been struggling to live on his own, what with hunting and searching for things to sustain himself. There was plenty of water, and the wildlife was never particularly horrible to him. He had made friends with a tiny purple lizard he liked to call Purple. 

He was a simple creature. 

One day, when he was playing with Purple, there was a huge crash that he could hear from his little cave. His ear had swiveled forward, and he was able to make out the sounds of a wounded animal. 

_Like him._

Without thinking, the tiny boy dropped the rock he had been using and took off, scrabbling forward. He tripped over tree roots and tumbled, cutting his arms on many things he could have avoided in his haste. 

Pausing for a moment, he turned his head this way and that, trying to find the source of the noise again. 

Another whimper had him sprinting, ducking under a few branches until he reached whatever was crying out. It was a tiny wolf pup in the middle of a smoking dirt crater, with people around trying to attack it. 

The wolf had looked up, and the two had made eye contact. 

And for some reason, Keith moved like a fish in water. He grabbed the knife he always kept with him, pulling it out and going after the first of the men. For some reason, he ducked in every blindspot and didn't get a single strike. For some reason, he made none of the mistakes that he always made when he was training. And for some reason, he was able to bring down all of the men trying to hurt the pup. 

But he was small, and he was tired.

So he only managed a weak smile to the wolf pup, before collapsing on the ground in a heap. 

* * *

Keith woke like he always did. 

With the feel of Kosmo licking his cheek, dripping slobber onto his face in an attempt to wake him up. That was the wolf's greeting. Keith groaned, reaching up to thread his fingers through the thick fur around his neck, trying to gently push him back down. 

The wolf was insistent, though. Licking his cheek, his eye, his nose. Trying to make him get up. 

Keith scrunched up his nose and curled in closer to the wolf's chest, hiding his face in the curls of fur. They were soft against his face, brushing against his cheek in that same comforting way. 

The huge wolf let out a heavy sigh, grumbling as he tucked his head down to lick at the edge of Keith's hairline. He was very serious about getting up this morning, though Keith didn't really know why. 

The wolf suddenly froze, looking up. A low growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating out into Keith's body. 

Immediately, Keith was awake, unsheathing his knife and standing in a half-crouch of sorts. He shifted quickly, ear flicking as he pulled on his mask, doing the ties at the back in mere seconds. There was silence around them. 

That was the sign something was wrong. It was a forest, for Sa's sake. When was it ever _quiet?_

Kosmo rose behind him, growling softly. Keith darted his gaze around, and when he found nothing, he let out a low rumble. It was a challenge, direct to a Galran's pride, and it helped him out. Growing up with the Druids, he developed an ability of almost echolocation. It was useful when he was wandering the halls late at night, or out on a mission of some sort. 

It reverberated back to him, bouncing off the objects in the nearby radius. As the sounds reflected back at him, Keith's ear swiveled to find where the discrepancies in the surroundings were. 

Before he could do much, there were three darts heading straight for him. Without thinking, he teleported out of the spot. Which was clearly a trap, if he had taken the time to think it through. 

But he didn't, and then something sharp was pricking the back of his neck, and his eyes were rolling back in his head as he collapsed to the ground. 

* * *

Lotor paced across the room of the medical wing, hands clasped behind his back. 

He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous. Not even when he was about to be banished, or when he got into those ridiculous fights with his father. Those were more of a fear. This was pure anxiety. 

They had darted down the half-breed in the forest, taking care of his wolf soon after. When they had asked, Ryner had told them the blood would work instantaneously. One drop and the poison would begin to recede.

It had been a varga, and nothing had happened. 

What the hell had gone wrong? 

They had ended up taking the blood with a syringe from the side of his neck, trying to give him as much privacy as possible. Though Lotor could tell that was the last thing the others wanted to do, it was more than rude to just strip the young half-galran of his clothes and tie him down to an observation table to peel back his skin in an attempt to reveal the secrets hidden underneath. 

Even Lotor wouldn't sink that low. 

The others were gathered with him, and they had stuck Allura in a healing pod with the vial of blood for the time being. Lotor had to intervene to stop the others from practically bleeding Keith dry in their haste to cure the princess. 

Yes, he wanted her safe more than anyone, but he also knew that killing the only hope of that was an extremely terrible idea. 

So now they were waiting in the med bay with bated breath for Keith to wake up. Pidge had been furious, with reason, and they stuck him in Altean cuffs that magnetically pressed together. It was only the remembrance of that awful video that they resisted other forms of imprisonment. 

Lotor just prayed that Keith would help them out. 

He felt like it was a very misplaced hope, especially since they had literally been chasing this boy across the galaxy and probably causing him a panic attack trying to jump him on another planet. 

Now that he reasoned it out, it was very, _very_ unlikely that he would give than anything more than a tongue lashing. 

Quiznack. 

And then finally, _oh god finally,_ there was the sound of stirring and movement. Lotor snapped his gaze over to the form of Keith on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back. Kosmo had wrapped protectively around him, practically smothering him in his thick fur coat. 

But then he was moving, lifting himself up and leaning against Kosmo for support. He tugged half-heartedly on the cuffs around his wrists, before dragging his gaze up to stare at the captors around him. 

And Sa, if there wasn't such _fire_ in that gaze. Lotor believed it was impossible for such a tiny body to possess such a great spirit. But one look at the danger, at the anger, at the spark in his eyes, and he knew exactly why the Red Lion had chosen him. 

Silence, as his gaze flicked over to the med pod where Allura was. A blood bag was hooked up to it, swirling with purple patches. That was how it had come from the half-breed. 

And then Keith dragged his gaze back, locking onto Lotor's with a ferocity he would never forget. 

" _I will tell you nothing."_


	7. drag me out and beat me

A raging fire. 

An inferno trapped in a small body. A god reincarnated in the wrong place. Someone so impossibly strong stuffed into the tiniest frame. A soul too big to contain. It spills out over the edges like a glass overfilled, splashing down. 

That's what Keith is. 

He's an angel fallen from above, perfectly crafted and sculpted. 

That is why he is so dangerous, though. 

_If he was an angel, how did he get cast out of heaven?_

* * *

The small half-breed watched them all with a fire in his gaze, one too large for his body to contain.

"Why isn't she healing?" Lance demanded, gesturing to Allura. "We gave her the blood!" 

Keith only adjusted himself, leaning back against the shoulder of his space wolf and laying his arm on his back, crossing his legs in front of him while bringing up a hand as if to examine his nails. "I don't know. Why isn't she?"

Lance looked five seconds from murdering him. 

Kosmo watched them warily, clearly untrustworthy of any of them. With a heavy sigh, the wolf laid its head down, curling itself around Keith. Keith lowered the hand was examining, resting his palm in the space between the wolf's ears. 

The cuffs around his hands were magnetic and Altean, and they weren't currently activated. 

And then it clicked for Lotor. "I remember what we're missing for this antidote with Allura and the poison."

Everyone turned to him so fast it was almost terrifying. "What is it?!" 

Lotor soured immediately. "Well, this poison is one stemming from magic, which is what makes it so powerful. Even if you manage to get the blood of that who it belongs to, it won't work without... the consent of the assassin."

The room fell silent. 

Keith nodded. "Yep. So can I go now?"

Sharp gazes turned towards him.

He shrugged unapologetically. "I'm not gonna cure your princess. What's the point of me being here?"

"What can we do to change your mind?" Shiro asked, a pleading note slipping into his voice. It seemed to be the wrong thing to do because Keith's gaze sharpened as he looked at him with a fierce glare.

"Unless you can go back in time, I don't think there's really anything. Y'know, I really was gonna let bygones be bygones and go on my way. And then you all appear on my ship, and then you all come after me, and then you all are keeping me in this castle of yours. There's a reason I'm unhappy with this." Keith replied flatly. 

"You stole the Red Lion." 

"Did it really matter? If it had chosen me, none of you would have been able to pilot it anyway. Better it be out with me than collecting dust in a castle that should have been destroyed ten thousand years ago." He retorted. 

" _Please,_ " Shiro begged. "Keith, please heal Allura."

Keith looked completely unaffected. "No, I don't think I want to heal the racist Altean princess. She's lived about ten thousand years past her expiration date anyways, and most of that was spent in comfort. She's been cushioned her entire life."

"No, she hasn't!" Lance shouted angrily. "Her people were in a war when she was alive, and her father sacrificed herself, and then she wakes up ten thousand years later with a bunch of strange people who tell her everyone she has ever known is dead and they'll never come back!"

Keith froze, then suddenly reached up and wiped a fake tear from under his eye. "That's so sad. Kosmo, play Despacito."

The wolf jolted up at the command, and a huge grin spread on his face as he panted in excitement. Ears pricked up, he suddenly took in a deep breath and howled a few notes that sounded suspiciously like the chorus to Despacito.

Pidge's eye twitched from across the room. "Goddammit, he got the fucking memes."

Keith stilled at that, seeming to pale for a split second. Then he relaxed again, and it was like nothing had ever happened. It was so brief that Lotor was sure he was the only one to catch the thing. 

Shiro moved towards Lotor, getting ready to start a conversation. 

Meanwhile, Keith moved around and adjusted himself until his legs were propped over Kosmo's back and his head was laying on the floor, using Kosmo's tail as a cushion. He crossed his arms over his stomach and stared at the ceiling dramatically. 

It would be a while.

* * *

_Keith hummed to himself in the dark cave, walls lit up by the licking flames in front of him. They danced sporadically, without rhyme, reason, or a real purpose. Warmth emanated off of them though, and for that he was grateful._

_A tiny pup was laying a few feet away from him, head resting on its paws and ears pricked as it watched him with a careful yellow gaze. It was curled around itself, tail wrapping around its body._

_Keith had decided he was going to continue the cycle and ignore it while it ignored him._

_It was a tense atmosphere, for the most part._

_After a while of staring listlessly at the flames, Keith sighed and leaned back onto the wall behind him. It was cold, hard, and completely uncomfortable. But he could still feel the warmth of the flames from here, so he was doing better than in the cold._

_The pup watched him still, tensing as he moved to lean back against the wall._

_After a minute, it raised its head to regard him again. Curious, eager to know more. It reminded Keith painfully of one of the Druids that had helped raise him. Before she was revealed to be a Marmoran member and slaughtered like livestock._

_Sighing again, Keith moved to lay on his side against the rock, laying his head down on his arms as a poor substitute for cushions. Man, would he kill for a pillow right now. Actually, scratch that. A blanket would be heavenly._

_The pup seemed to be contemplating something as it watched him, an ear tilted to the side now._

_That was progress, wasn't it? Didn't it mean that it didn't think one of them was going to pounce and try to roast the other for dinner any second now, right? Maybe he wasn't being crazy in his quest for companionship?_

_Who knew._

_Keith watched the flames, eyes starting to drift close._

_He forced them open, trying to keep awake for long enough to watch the fire go out. For some reason, he had always loved being able to stay awake for the entire time a fire was going to watch it fade out into sparks and embers._

_There was something so inherently satisfying about watching it die._

_He was a messed up child._

_But alas, he lost the battle, and his eyes slipped close._

* * *

_Keith awoke curled around the small, furry body of the pup, the embers of the flames in front of them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i went so long without updating! i took a few days off for my mental health (and to binge mo dao zu shi come yell at me if you want)  
> but i feel a lot better now!


	8. few what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this oblivion? Hell? Is this Sa condemning him for everything he didn't do? He thinks that if they are, then they're doing a good job. He wants to lay down, sleep, and never wake up. The silence was too much for him to handle. 
> 
> Every passing moment of his life, there was no noise. This portable home may have enough to survive for him, but the animals here are quiet. As if they know this is his punishment, and they are going to help him. He doesn't want help, he thinks to himself as he stares at the fire in front of him. 
> 
> He wants someone, anyone. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He's found that being alone with your own mind is the greatest punishment he could receive. Because he could never get it to stop. It was infinitely spinning on a cracked axis, letting him know it wouldn't ever leave.

The space whale was as pleasant as could be expected. It was filled with lush greenery, with trees scattered aimlessly across the ground. It had oxygen, gravity, its own atmosphere. A moving, living, breathing planet. Almost akin to a Balmera. 

His thoughts have been his only company for the past few-

Few what?

Vargas, ticks, doboshes, any other time slice he could think of? Was there a method to this madness, this never-ending prison he found himself trapped in day- varga- tick- doboshes by whenever?

 _No,_ he thinks. _There was never a method in the first place._

Is this oblivion? Hell? Is this Sa condemning him for everything he didn't do? He thinks that if they are, then they're doing a good job. He wants to lay down, sleep, and never wake up. The silence was too much for him to handle. 

Every passing moment of his life, there was no noise. This portable home may have enough to survive for him, but the animals here are quiet. As if they know this is his punishment, and they are going to help him. He doesn't want help, he thinks to himself as he stares at the fire in front of him. 

He wants someone, _anyone_. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He's found that being alone with your own mind is the greatest punishment he could receive. Because he could never get it to stop. It was infinitely spinning on a cracked axis, letting him know it wouldn't ever leave.

It haunted him in both worlds. There wasn't such a thing as a dreamless sleep. It was only his imaginations made even more vivid, only everything he feared added color and made tangible, made real. 

When he was awake, the world seemed to tilt on its side. The shadows in the corners of his eyes stopped being shadows. They started growing; shifting; morphing; into something new. Something horrible. 

It would never touch him. Even in his dreams, it would never touch him. It would simply linger. It would simply _be._

And that was the worst part. He was here, trapped in his own mind, alone except for himself. And when he finally had something, no matter how dark and corrupted it may be, he was still alone. 

Somedays, when it was too much or he wasn't enough, when everything kept _piling and piling until all he could see was that same leering grin, feel that same feeling of dread, hear nothing but his own silence-_ he would force it to stop. 

He had always had self-destructive tendencies, as it was so adeptly put. He had distinct memories of it, of banging his head against the wall in his room until it began to bleed and drip blood down the black metal. Until it dripped down into a gentle puddle, collecting on the ground. He felt it dripping down his face, and he decided it wasn't a bad feeling. 

At least, not a bad one as opposed to being alone. 

He found he did that here, as well. To escape his own mortality, to escape all of the thoughts that plagued him, he would lean forward against the grey concrete wall under the overhang that shielded him, that helped isolate him, that helped his exile, and he would lean back, and let himself fall forward. 

There would also be a quiet thud. There would always be a sharp feeling of pain behind his forehead, a feeling of pain that made tears start to spring to the corners of his eyes. He loved that feeling. To know it was him, he was the problem, he was the one causing the pain. 

It was intoxicating, it was fleeting, it was leaving him. Just like everyone else. 

But he wouldn't let it. 

He wouldn't let the power leave him, wouldn't let it go. He reached out and snatched it, snatched it with his thin hand, used strength he didn't know he had to pull it back. He would force it in a cage if he had to, despite his own relationship with cages. He would keep it with him by any means necessary. He wasn't letting it escape, wasn't letting it run away from him. It would be different. It would stay. 

He did this often. 

It felt good. The pain mixed with the endorphins until he couldn't tell which was which, and could only tell that it took longer for him to achieve the euphoria. It didn't hurt as much. He needed more.

So he started hitting his head harder. Faster. 

And the rush, the feeling of endorphins playing with the pain in his head was enough to keep him sustained. He floated on the waves, drinking in the emotions he caused and had control over with the fervency of a man alone in the desert. A man seeing the light for the first time.

He wasn't a man though, he reasoned with himself, so it was okay.

* * *

He hasn't used his voice in a while.

He hadn't had a need to. There's no reason to be talking to one's self. It would do no help to drive away from the darkness, do no help to try and push back the mind that haunted him. There was no point.

_He did plenty of things that had no point. How was this any different?_

Because he said so.

At least, that was what he told himself. That it was alright because he said it was alright. Because he was a deciding factor in the rights and wrongs of the world. Because his words mattered.

He remembered someone telling him that, maybe once or twice. Or maybe it was just his mind spinning too quickly again, making up things that weren't real to try and comfort himself. He wonders if that counts as insanity. His mind comforting itself with things that never happened. 

Maybe he's the insane one.

Or maybe it's just another false hope, another thing he wants to wish for but can never have. He hopes that isn't the case, but his hopes are often nothing more than that; hopes. They don't come true. They're just as fleeting as his moments of clarity when he realizes that maybe he shouldn't be slamming his head against a stone wall to feel something. 

But then those moments are over too fast, he wonders if they even happened in the first place. He wonders if it was again his mind trying to tell him something he couldn't figure out for himself. 

He sometimes wonders why he always seems to consider himself as an entity separate from his mind. They're the same, aren't they? His mind is what keeps him functioning, which lets him have these awful thoughts right now. 

But then he remembers all the horrible things it does to him, all of the nightmares it cooks up and forces down his throat with a plastic smile. He remembers the fear of last night's sleep, remembers how he doesn't like to sleep very much now. 

He goes back to slamming his head on the stone wall and watching the blood drip onto the ground.

Whenever he feels like his stomach is hurting him for existing, he will stand, he will take a knife he has with him, and he will walk out from under the overhang. Immediately, he misses it. He doesn't know how there is light on this moving habitat, and he does not care to think very long about it. All he needs is the food that grows there, the animals that slink in the bushes. 

He wants to go back into his overhang, where he's the safest he's ever been. He wants to go back to slamming his head onto that wall, wants to go back to the only safety he has. The safety of routine, the safety of knowing everything that is going to happen. He doesn't like surprises. He doesn't like change. 

_He supposes that's why he doesn't like himself._

The trees are large, branches stretching out over top of him to block out the mysterious light that permeates the air around him. The branches are diverse. Some are long and spindly, nothing more than glorified twigs, while others are as thick as the trunk itself. Those ones are strong, and hold up many leaves. They are a source to draw upon, a source of happiness and power for others to take from. 

He wishes had something like that.

But he doesn't, and he needs to move so he can eat and go back to his safety. He needs to finish this so he can turn and run away, tail tucked between both of his legs. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't _like_ being here, so close to anything. So close to change. 

So he forces himself on, brushing his hands on the trunks of the trees he passes. The bark is rough to the touch, scraping his palms painfully. The warm, milky brown color is welcoming, but its texture is not. He doesn't mind very much. 

Once, he decided to cut a section of the warm bark out to see what was underneath. He wanted to know what was happening where he couldn't see. It had taken a while to convince himself to do it, because he was scared of what he found would cause a change. But one day, he finally decided that it wouldn't change anything, it would just let him know what was under there, and he drew out from under his safety. 

He was careful, knife held in a fighting position as he walked toward one of the harsh-barked trees. He had been careful, listening out for any noises around him with his tail flicking and ears swiveling in every direction. He had been careful as he used the sharp edge of his knife to slice a long line across the front of one of the trunks. He had sliced another adjacent, at an odd angle because he didn't know how else to cut it.

He had cut four lines into a shape he once heard called a diamond. He likes diamonds, he thinks. He likes their shapes and their corners. He likes shapes because they don't change. They stayed consistent and friendly, and he liked that about them. He felt like he could trust shapes.

He carefully reached out, letting his nails unsheath a bit to use the sharp end to pry in the space between the bark and the inside of the trunk. He had ended up needing the help of his knife, but he thinks that's alright with him. He likes his knife. It's like shapes; it doesn't change. 

When he finally pried the bark off, he let it drop to the ground and looked at the space where it had been present. All that was was a thin, glassy layer of _something._ It looked rubbery in the mystery light that shone upon the whale, and there seemed to be something beyond it. He had wanted to know what it was, so he reached out hesitantly to touch his fingertip to the surface.

He had half-expected something bad to happen, someone to jump out and shout _you can't do that!_ but nothing did. Nothing ever happened. It was just him and that strange tree, for now, and forever on this whale in this horrible place. This place of pure nothingness. 

His fingers touched the surface, and he paused at the contact. It was rubbery, and it seemed strong. When he poked it, it almost jiggled. Whatever it was containing moved along with it, and he swore he saw a bubble rising up. What was this strange tree?

He wanted to know what was inside the surface. So he grabbed his knife and swallowed hard. He needed to be brave, to find out for himself what secrets this was hiding from him. It wouldn't change anything. He would go on being the same and so would the tree.

So he pressed the sharp edge of the blade to the rubbery surface hidden by bark, and he pressed it in. His knife had never had any problems with cutting through anything, and this wasn't any different. He sliced a thin line and watched with huge eyes as a thin liquid began to drip out of the slice. It was a soft oak brown and looked sappy. Maybe it was a sap. 

If it was a sap, could he eat it?

The question popped into his head, and he had already been so brave today. He had already been so strong and curious, and this was the last thing. So he reached out and pressed the end of one of his fingers to the strange, drippy, sappy liquid falling from the tree. It moved slowly and gently, reminded him of warmth. He let a tiny smile curve his lips as he reached out, touching it. 

And then his scream had rung out through the home of the whale. 


	9. swimming upstream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think,"
> 
> he stilled at the door. 

It was hopeless, he had concluded. 

There was no getting through, no reasoning his way out of this one. He remembered once, so vaguely, the moment so edged with grain and flickering, someone -he can't quite put his finger on who it was- giving him a fond smirk and mussing his hair, telling him one day he would come across a set of problems he couldn't talk his way out of.

He remembers scoffing at them, giving them a patronizing smile, and responding that if it did happen, they would be the first one to know. They had ended up betting a hundred GAC on it.

They had died before he had run into the first problem. 

He still remembered the exact moment, still recalled the very way it felt as he stood safely -no, not safely; he was never safe with his father- on the ship, helpless to do anything but stare out the window and watch the- _his_ planet be destroyed. 

Because he didn't believe in mass genocide and slavery. 

He learned that his set of problems that couldn't be talked out all revolved around his father. Every situation he would find unable to talk about had a connection to the cruel, needlessly evil man. 

This was no different. 

The little half-breed on the floor, watching them all with a half-lidded gaze and razor-thin pupils held one of the strongest connections to the man. It was only natural Lotor would never be able to talk out of this.

Only natural he watched as another one slipped through his fingers, watched them cry out and scream his name, branding it upon their lips, sinking it into his ears, as Sa reclaimed their bodies. But not their souls.

Never their souls.

No, the souls would always stay behind to watch him, mock him, view him with glee as he failed yet again and sent yet another to death. They would jeer from the sidelines, whispering into his ear all of the things he could have done instead, all the things he could have done better. 

And they would never be silenced.

He had long since stopped trying. 

The paladins had long since retreated, run away from the untouchable key to their problem. They had escaped to cope by themselves, to slowly come to terms with the fact that one of their own was going to leave them and the entire thing was out of their reach. So frustratingly close, but the one who could fix it, who could stop Sa's grip, refused to move. 

It never got easier. 

He knew that firsthand. 

And now, he was the only one in the room with the closed off key and the lock that would never be opened. The one who was slipping away as they waited, the one who was crying out his name and he was never able to reach for. 

It weighed so, so heavy. He wanted to be angry about it. He wanted to scream and yell and punch something and tear something to shreds. To train and spar and fight until his bones cracked and his body collapsed under the exhaustion. Until he couldn't think about it anymore. 

He didn't any of those, though.

Instead, he sat on the floor a few feet away from Keith and stared at the grey. He traced the light blue lines with his eyes, making note of the spaces between each of them and exactly how many there were. 

He felt Keith's eyes on him, felt the half-Galran watching with a wary, cautious gaze. He was a Galran right now, ears swiveling every so often as he picked up some minuscule noise from somewhere. 

Kosmo had stayed his size, and Keith was idly running his fingers through the fur between his ears, stroking it softly. His gaze was distant eventually, but he was still clearly aware of the situation. 

Another long, empty silence passed between them. 

Lotor wanted to get on his knees, to beg him to save Allura. As if Shiro and the others hadn't already tried. While they had, he had stood impassively off to the side, watching Keith for any tells, any signs of movement, _anything._

He had been disappointed. 

Thoughts, memories, dreams were bubbling up inside his chest. Draining from his brain, pumping through his heart, warming his blood, and threatening to make water start to gather in his eyes. He wouldn't cry, though. Not right now. He needed to stay strong. 

But the strong waves wouldn't recede, and they kept crashing against him and driving him back until he was biting his tongue to let the pain moor him, anchor him so he didn't fall into the waves. So many faces flitted past his sight, somehow appearing on the floor of the Altean ship. Different moments, different snapshots of them throughout their time together. Smiling, laughing, running, gesturing.

_Dying._

"I was six decaphoebs old when I met Kova."

Keith's head snapped upwards at his sudden words, purple slit pupils locking him to an with an intensity he will not soon forget. Kosmo opened his eyes just as fast, and both sets of ears turned towards him. But for the startle, for the sudden breach of the delicate silence, Keith kept it. He waited, tail flicking at the end, almost imploring him to continue. 

And he did.

"She was a small cat, grey with red and blue accents. She was Haggar's cat, I believe, before she somehow made her way to Narti and they bonded. Narti isn't here anymore, but the two of them were close. Narti was a subject of the Druids, and I believe their bond was a result of that. Kova became her eyes since she was unable to see, and she could communicate telepathically since she couldn't speak."

Another long issue of silence. 

"What happened to her?" his voice has a hint of gravel in it, most likely from disuse. But it's deep, and for the most part smooth. It flows into the space between them, almost seeming to fill up the room. 

Lotor didn't hesitate. There was no reason to hide it, after all. His mistakes were his own. Everything was his fault, and what could he ever gain to try and hide it? A sense of respect? Laughable. 

"I killed her."

Keith didn't respond, at least, not right away. Lotor figured why. But when he looked up, he realized that the solider, the _slave_ looked more thoughtful than anything. There was no disgust, no fear. He didn't seem offended or even particularly affected by the statement at all. Instead, his gaze drifted slowly over to the pod that held Allura, snagging on it, before lowering to Kosmo.

Lotor didn't expect a response. He needed to get some rest, anyhow. 

So he stood, making for the door. He was a little achy from sitting on the floor for so long, but it didn't really matter. He wasn't dead or even injured, so there was no reason to dwell on it even further.

"I think,"

he stilled at the door. 

"I think that the world is filled with infinite possibilities and thousands of realities. I think that in another universe, I could have been a human on Earth, and piloted the Red Lion with the rest of them as a member of Voltron. I think I could have been an Altean prince, fighting in the war. I think I could have never made it, dying in birth instead." there was a pause. "I also think that all of those who preach about the third option, about the other way out, are all sheltered kits who have never gotten the pleasure of experiencing this reality. We are faced with choices that everyone depends on, faced with situations where there is no option that would keep us in higher favor. We are the ones tasked with making the decisions that everyone will hate, but none will understand. Not truly, anyways. I think war brings out the worst in people, that this entire reality brings out the worst in everyone. I think that killing is simply a matter of deciding who will be forced to carry on with the weight of their own decisions on their shoulders, and who will be given a reprieve. And I think I envy those that get the reprieve."

* * *

He knew it was night time when the lights dimmed. 

They didn't shut off, didn't leave him in the darkness as so many others had, but rathered decreased in intensity and made him feel less like they were trying to blind him with a long-term strategy of brightness. Even the lights in the pod the lone paladin occupied had darkened. 

Not enough he couldn't see.

Not enough he couldn't go through with his stupid, idiotic, imbecilic plan. He can hear Macidus yelling in his ear already about how much of a _vishn_ _ēr_ he was being. It was a Galran word for dumbass. He said _a_ because a surprising amount of the language was dedicated to insults. 

But he had never listened to him in the first place. If he had, he wouldn't be in this position in the first place. If he had, his life might have gone so much differently. But it seemed that resisting, that fighting, that swimming upstream was the thing he would be destined to do for eternity. 

A half-varga passed before he could get his bones to move, get his body to coordinate and respond to him again. Kosmo looked up at him curiously, tilting his head to the side, but made no move to stop him as he rose to his feet.

Only watched as he slowly made his way over to the pod where Allura stood, face relaxed. He could see the veins creeping up along the back of her hand, pulsating black and purple. Gods, that meant it was almost completely in effect. It must travel exceptionally fast through her blood. Then again, he hadn't exactly set an exact time frame within he wanted her dead. The poison must have improvised for him, taking the natural route.

He had been raised for the most part on a Galran ship, but they had made him learn everything by memory. The healing pod was hardly different than the ones on the cruiser, and he found it easy to slide it open. Found it easy to catch Allura in his arms as she fell forward. Found it easy to gently lay her on the ground, spread out in the suit they had stuck her in for the pod.

He glanced at her face, no longer as peaceful out of the pod. He hesitated, then gingerly reached up and used a fingertip to lift an eyelid. Black lined with purple rings. She was going to fall to insanity within the next quarter varga.

That meant he didn't have the time to hesitate.

He took a deep breath, then reached up and pulled the sleeve of his jacket back. Swallowing, he reached out and opened his mouth, letting his fangs extend more than normal. Pressing the points of the top two into the bottom of his wrist, he applied pressure and swiped to the right. 

Blood welled up and began to drip down his arm, plopping onto the floor quietly. Keith reached up with two fingers, soaking the ends in the blood running from his wrist. He moved fast, leaning over Allura to brush her hair away from her forehead. With two fingers, he traced a line starting a little below her hairline and ending just past the space between her eyes, on the start of the bridge to her nose. He drew a half-circle facing down, then placed two dots in each of the spaces of the half-circle, on either side of the line. Finally, he reached up drew a horizontal line straight on top of the vertical, extending outward a few centimeters.

He could see the paleness beginning to recede from her face. 

He didn't need to do this. He could simply let one drop fall to her skin and be done with it. But he remembers how he learned of the curse, how he learned to make it. It was the ritual of his teacher to draw a symbol to represent themselves and the fact they had just taken life from Sa. She had a personal one, and so did Keith. The familiarity of the ritual gave him a warm feeling. 

Allura was beginning to twitch, and he had no doubt the others would be alerted to the pod opening. So he turned around, standing up and wiping the blood on his pants. Kosmo had moved while he was over there, now sitting in the corner of the room facing the door.

Keith gave him a wry smile, and though he couldn't see it over the mask, he knew Kosmo had understood. He always did. 

So he walked over, smushing himself into the corner and relaxing as he felt Kosmo lay down and curl around him. He faced the walls, but he did not mind. Not when Kosmo was pressing heavy against him, not when he was burrowed under fur and warmth and the knowledge that he could trust him. 

Hidden by Kosmo's figure, he let himself fall into a quiet sleep. 


	10. i am leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked at the objects she held and saw that they were cuffs. Altean cuffs.

_He sat under the rocky overhang, blood trickling down the wall and the front of his face. His comfort had started to turn sour after his adventure out to the trees, but he didn't know how to fix it._

_He wanted the rush of endorphins, the feeling of control, but all he got a faint feeling of pain and emptiness. All he got was another thing leaving him once more. He cradled his hand to his chest, ignoring the growl his stomach gave him. He was hungry, he knew. But he didn't want to move._

_He cast a glance out to one of the wretched trees, narrowing his eyes as he noticed a small creature scurrying up the trunk in silence. He knew not to touch the sap of the trees now._

_He knew because the top of the finger he had used to touch it, the inside was melted away and bloody and_ painful. _Only the back of the top remained, letting him see his own bones and the inner nerves and veins of his finger, still barely able to extend his claws on that finger._

_He knew because it had almost killed him._

* * *

Pidge was sitting on the floor, typing at her computer while leaning back against the Green Lion. She could feel her purring in her mind, a warmth brushing up against her that was so- so comforting. 

She was cold; the feeling seeping into her body, fusing into her bones, into her very being as it mocked her for being unable to stop it. For being able to get to the root of it, but not to fix it. Not to stop it.

She found herself looking, staring at nothing through her glasses. It was dark in the hangar, the light from her computer hitting her glasses and tinting her eyes from sight. She knew she was tired, knew she had bags underneath her eyes, knew she needed sleep, but she couldn't bring herself to get it. Couldn't bring herself to stop for a moment, to _dare_ and hope that when she woke up, this would all be a twisted dream that she would soon forget.

She had been trapped long enough to know that this wasn't a dream, that this was her new brand of life. She was out here filling her purpose, fighting to stop Zarkon and bring Lotor to the forefront of the empire. 

She wasn't ever waking up. 

All she could do was steel herself and continue to type, to continue and try to find a solution for the affliction that was taking her friend from her. She wouldn't die, not on her watch. She could save her, she knew it. If she just tried a little harder, fought a little more, she could save Allura. Keep her alive a little longer.

 _If faced with this hell upon waking, would it better to let her_ go?

* * *

Hunk was cooking. 

Cooking, because he didn't know what else to do. Couldn't find another way to deal with this horrible feeling inside of his chest, find another way to try and reassure himself that this was _right,_ this was _helping._

Because he wasn't. 

He was hiding in the kitchen of a castle ship that was not his to avoid the truth about her, the truth about what was going to happen with his friend, the truth that she was going to _die_ and there was _nothing_ he could do about it.

He was fine, he told himself as he reached into the oven and pulled out a tray. 

He was alright, he told himself as he made the buttercream to go between the layers of his cake.

Everything would be okay, he told himself as he carefully stacked the cakes.

He just needed to wait, he told himself as he started covered the cakes in different colors of fondant; white and blue and pink, just the same as her colors.

She would wake up and she would eat this, he told himself as he used his tubing to write out a little message on the top of the fondant in slim, slanted writing, before moving to write her name in wide, childish letters. 

She would wake up and smile at him, he told himself as he dropped sprinkles onto the top of it, as he added on little fondant flowers along the edges, as he piped small designs along the edges of the cake.

_WE LOVE YOU, ALLURA_

He was fine, he told himself as he braced his hands on the counter, bowed his head, and began to cry.

* * *

Allura stood up, reaching up to touch the side of her head as she glanced around the room.

She was inside of the medbay, she realized as the soft blue glow illuminated everything. She inside of the medbay, and she had been on the floor. Why had she been on the floor? She didn't feel sore as if she had fallen down from the pod, and there should have been someone there to catch her. 

But she could see none of her teammates. 

All she could see was a large bundle of dark and light blue fur tucked into a corner, slowly rising and falling in silence. But she was no idiot; she could tell it was alert and waiting for her next move. 

"Hello?" she called hesitantly. 

The bundle stiffened, freezing in place, before suddenly shifting to move over, almost seeming to nudge something as it moved one of its paws outwards. The razor claws, rested on the floor, the paw possessing them huge and intimidating. 

She had no real idea, she realized, of just what this thing was. 

As it moved and as she waited, two horrible _cracks_ resounded outwards in the room. Allura flinched back, wincing. It sounded like the bones of something, and the next thing she knew, something was flying straight for her.

Allura reached up, snatching the objects from the air and halting them inches from her face. She narrowed her eyes at the still moving bundle of furi am and sucked in a sharp breath as she heard two more cracks. 

She looked at the objects she held and saw that they were cuffs. Altean cuffs. 

The fur moved sharply, a hind leg becoming visible on the ground. The claws dug slightly into the floor, and they would no doubt leave pinpricks in the metal. But then it was turning, and she could see the head of the beast.

It had a long, slim snout and glowing yellow eyes, accented along the edges of its fur with yellows and whites. One ear was swiveled towards her, the other flicked back as it pushed itself up.

And it was _big._

It towered over her, even from a distance. It stared at her, piercing some sort of veil with its gaze. Watching her sharply, waiting for her to dare do anything with it around. It was protecting something. But what?

Her answer came in the familiar figure stepping from around it, one hand resting on the shoulder of the beast. Another sharp gaze met hers, and they paused like that, emptiness stretching out in the spaces between them. 

"What happened?" Allura finds herself asking, softly as she can. 

The assassin narrows her gaze but doesn't reply at first. Instead, he merely surveys her. Allura feels a prickling sensation up her spine and realizes that there is something on her forehead. 

For now, she makes no move to change that. 

He blinks, pupils still thin but his gaze flatter than before, calmer, more neutral. She seems to have passed the test he had laid out for her adequately enough. He lets the yellow shift from her to the door of the room, glancing around.

Her tone is dull and inflectionless. "I am leaving."

Allura doesn't- _can't_ deny that statement, because something prickling at her edges is saying that he had a hand in helping her back to life, back from the clutches of Sa's grasp. Something is itching at her, and she can't ignore it.

So instead, she dips her head respectfully. "All I can ask is that you do not take the Red Lion."

He looks her over again, narrows his eyes again, then lets out a breath and turns to move towards the door. The wolf follows close behind him. "It can remain here with you, collecting dust where it sits."

"I thank you for your kindness." Is what she says.

He pauses at the door, turns, and places his hand on the wolf's shoulder again. He meets her gaze, but it isn't as calculating as before. Not as vicious, nor as sharp. More like regards, a goodbye it seems. 

"Until we meet again, Princess Allura." his voice is soft, and he, along with his wolf, vanish in a burst of purple sparks. 

**Author's Note:**

> hehe rewriteeeeeee


End file.
